


the dimly lit hallway

by Elzie (gallaxygay)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Canon Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Langst, M/M, Post-Season/Series 05, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Shiro (Voltron) Has a Clone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-03-28 00:06:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13892007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallaxygay/pseuds/Elzie
Summary: Lance watches Keith carefully in the dimly lit hallway. He says, “You don’t know shit, Keith. Not about me, not about us, and not about this team. But I don’t know what to tell you, man. It’s been a while since you've called this castle your home, you know?”-a late night conversation between keith and lance





	1. the beginning

Lance watches Keith carefully in the dimly lit hallway. He says, “You don’t know shit, Keith. Not about me, not about us, and not about this team. But I don’t know what to tell you, man. It’s been a while since you've called this castle your home, you know?”

Keith opens his mouth to protest, or maybe to defend himself but before he can put together a coherent thought, Lance holds a hand up. “Listen,” he starts, sounding much more tired than he was just fifteen minutes ago. “I’m not attacking you. I’m not arguing with you on this one, Keith. If we start fighting, I’m done. I’ll just go to sleep and we can like, meditate on it, or whatever.”

Keith hears Lance’s unspoken warning. He hears it in the tired, scratchy tone of Lance’s voice and the way that his mouth twists into something painful and guilty and sad when he’s not speaking - like having this conversation with Keith is so excruciating that Lance’s body is staging mutiny and demanding a let-go. He sees the warning in the way Lance holds his torso in his arms, in an almost preemptive flinch against the harsh words he’s become so accustomed to from both Keith and Shiro. He hears it in the slight tremor behind his otherwise steady voice, betraying the emotion that Lance usually gives out freely. Lance is warning Keith that he’ll give up, but he looks like he’s preparing already for Keith to disappoint him. 

That knowledge hurts more than Keith had expected. 

He says, “I’m sorry.”

Lance nods, like he had been expecting that too. His mouth curves down into a soft line when he says, “I know you are,” in a quiet voice. 

Then, “I’m needed there. I need to be there.”

Keith watches as Lance’s eyes briefly flick up from their spot on the floor to make eye contact - Lance breaks eye contact first, frowning harshly. He’s struck with how ethereal Lance looks in the dim blue light of the hallway. Ethereal, but small and unhealthy and angry, but god, he hides it well - Keith wonders if he has been eating enough, lately. Lance asks, “The motto is knowledge or death, right?”

Keith nods. He doesn’t know what Lance is leading up to but it makes him nervous all the same. He can feel a change in the atmosphere of the hallway - it’s something in Lance’s demeanour, Keith thinks, and it’s screaming disappointment.

But Lance just nods again. “Okay.”

“You’re not -“

Lance sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not going to stop you from doing your own shit, man. And anyway, I think you know what I think of that philosophy.”

Keith does. 

They had argued about it fiercely, after Keith tried to sacrifice himself. Lance was right and Keith was wrong but Lance was angry and crying and Keith was defensive and he didn’t understand what to do with his emotions. He doesn’t remember the night very well but it was the first time Keith had seen Lance scream with anger - screaming something about how Keith needs to learn his own self-importance. 

The next morning, Keith woke up tucked in his bed, still fully clothed. Lance was asleep outside of his door, head between his knees. 

He tries to make a joke, “You? Thinking? And about philosophy?” but the joke falls onto the flat emptiness of the night and Lance’s smirk looks empty and unhappy. 

“Things have changed, since you’ve been gone,” says Lance, changing the subject. “That’s what I meant to say earlier - that was rude of me, before.”

Keith raises his eyebrows before rushing out, “You really don’t need to apologize, I deserved it. I was being a dick.”

“You did and you were,” says Lance. “But it still wasn’t nice to say to a friend.”

Before Keith can help himself he’s asking, “We’re still friends?” in an awful, desperate and cloying sort of tone. 

Lance cocks his head to the side, at that. He looks tired. And conflicted. “We’re whatever you want, Keith. It’s all just whatever you want,” he says. Lance sounds like he’s just seconds away from crying, honesty dripping from every word he speaks. 

“I’m sorry for never calling,” says Keith. He feels like he’s apologizing for more than that, too - for not being there for Lance, for not being what Lance needs him to be.  

“That’s fine,” Lance responds. It’s a blatant lie at best, and Lance has shiny eyes. 

“I meant to.”

“I know.”

“We’re just so busy and -“

“I know, Keith. I get it,” snaps Lance. “You don’t have to feed me any excuses. You’re discovering yourself and shit, I get it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Lance supplies with a shrug. 

Keith feels like he’s made a mistake, like the conversation is spiralling beyond his control into something dark and unforgiving. He asks, “Are you okay?”

 

Lance doesn’t say anything, for a moment. He just watches Keith warily, as though he isn’t too sure whether or not he can trust his feelings in Keith’s care. 

“I feel like I’m all alone here,” says Lance eventually. “I’m always so lonely.” 

“You have Hunk-”

“Who has Pidge-”

“What about Shiro?” asks Keith. 

Lance lets out a harsh bark of laughter. He rubs a hand over his eyes before saying, “He yelled at me, yesterday, did you know?”

“I didn’t,” says Keith. Because, of course he didn’t - he never calls to check. “I’m sorry.” 

Without acknowledging Keith, Lance continues, “And I spar with him now, during training. But I’m not his partner.”

“I’m sure he’s trying,” says Keith. Lance recoils in on himself at Keith’s words, sending him a look that’s very betrayed. 

“He should be trying a hell of a lot harder, then.” It’s startling to hear something so angry and bitter in Lance’s voice, then. Keith wishes he knew what was going on in this castle that made Lance so upset and small. 

“I’m sorry,” says Keith. 

“I know,” says Lance, who’s starting to look exasperated with Keith’s constant apologies. “I know, man.” 

“I am, though,” he insists. “I want to know what’s wrong.” 

Lance falls silent. Keith watches as he puts together thoughts in his head. Finally, he says, “I don’t think you do, Keith,” Lance’s voice is soft and contemplative. “I think if you do, you won’t be able to figure out all your shit. And I’m not going to do that.” 

Keith’s voice is just as soft as Lance’s - he doesn’t want to ruin whatever mood Lance is in. He says, “That’s not your decision to make, buddy.” 

Lance looks at Keith strangely before shaking his head. “This is,” he says, turning on his heel and heading toward his room. “I’ll deal with it.” 

“Talk to Shiro,” Keith suggests urgently. “He’ll help, Shiro always helps.” 

A laugh, which is much quieter and much emptier than Keith is used to, rings out. “Sure,” says Lance with a little chuckle. “I’ll keep you updated.” 

“Wait I-”

Lance looks over his shoulder but Keith can barely see his face in the darkness of the hallway. He says, “We all care about you Keith.  _ I  _ care about you - ‘kay? Don’t go dying on me Keith, we still have so much left to do.” 

Keith blinks. 

Lance turns back around and half-shouts, “You’re leaving in five dobashes. See you later, Keithy.” 

 


	2. the dimly lit room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a continuation. this time, keith and lance are light years apart

Keith likes talking to Lance. He likes the way that Lance carries on conversations with the same ease with which he breathes, and the way that he talks with his hands, and how blue his eyes sometimes look under the clinical gaze of the castle lights. He likes how Lance explains references and jokes from earth without missing a beat and the fond sort of way that he talks about his family. Keith likes it - and in the lonely space of his room in the Blade headquarters, Lance's voice carries warmth and a feeling of home with it. It makes his life more livable and much more enjoyable, too. 

But Keith sometimes feels like he's made a mistake by being away for so long (and sometimes, these days, is more often than not). Lance is good and fun to talk to but Keith has learnt over months of late-night video chats that Lance's good-and-fun-to-talk-to is built of emotional walls, and he's storeys upon storeys of gloss-overs and speedy forgiving and small, half truths. He's learnt that Lance parses out the weight of his world for the few people he surrounds himself with. Keith understands, too, that Lance knows how to manage his own emotions - often far, far better than the rest of the team. He knows, though, that Lance carries the weight of the world around with him, and then also the responsibility of making the world and all its flaws manageable. 

Keith likes talking to Lance but he feels like he'll never quite be able to understand. Lance, Keith thinks, talks to understand his thoughts more thoroughly. He talks to comfort others and he talks to comfort himself. 

Lately, Lance has been quiet. He sits in silence during their late night calls, knees to his chest and chin tucked behind his knees and makes himself small in the dim (and sometimes flickering) light of his pad. That doesn't make Lance any less nice to talk to, but the worry eats away at Keith.

He thinks about Lance a lot now - about his tired eyes, about the way he flinches when Keith hardens his words, about how he feels so different now than he was before, but also as though he's trying anyway, even just for Keith's sake. 

Lance  _always_ tries so hard. Keith sees how it exhausts him, to try so much and so hard. 

He looks pained, with his nose scrunched up and a harsh frown adorns his lip. His upset is elegant. Lance asks, "Can I tell you something, please?"

Keith raises his eyebrows at the  _please_. He says, "You know you never have to ask." 

"Okay," says Lance slowly, wetting his lips a little. Keith watches as Lance puts together his thoughts, testing out sentences and ideas before he works up the nerve to speak something. Finally, Lance says, "I don't think I'm managing anything anymore. Like - I hate this? I hate all of this, which sounds really fucking negative but Christ - I am so fucking sick of this castle. I - I don't know what I'm doing here but it sort of feels like my entire life, at this point in time, is tip-toeing around too-sensitive subjects like they're fucking landmines. I'm exhausted, you know? Half the time that I'm here it feels like I'm dying and the other half of the time I'm just narrowly missing hits to all my arteries - everything that I need." 

Keith blinks. He says, "I'm sorry," but it's not enough to respond to Lance. He doesn't know how to gather a coherent enough thought or eloquent enough words that might convey what he means to say. He means to apologize for not being there and he means to ask if Lance will ever forgive him for running away - and if there's anything to forgive at all. He means to tell Lance that he manages  _everything_ and does it far better, and with so much more grace than anyone Keith has ever met - but that he shouldn't feel so hesitant to ask for help. Keith doesn't know how to say enough, so he lets his apology sit in the space between them and hopes that Lance can understand. 

"But most of all," continues Lance softly, staring down at his clenched hands. "I think I'm afraid that I'm going die in my bed, here - in this place that I've started to call home. I - fuck - I feel it in everything I do. I feel like I'm just milimetres away from stepping on a landmine and killing myself and everyone I care about." 

"That's a lot of metaphors, Lance," says Keith gently. "It's a lot." 

Lance rolls his eyes, but that jaded, scared sort of look that Keith had become accustomed to seeing slips off his face. He says, "Metaphors got me into the Garrison, you know? I wrote an angsty essay about immigrating fro Cuba and it pulled me enough empathy to get in on scholarship." 

"Did it?" asks Keith, grinning. "Please, please tell me you're serious. Next time we meet, if you're serious, I'm going to give you the biggest hug - who would have guessed-" 

Keith's stutters when he catches a look at the small smile Lance is offering him and the way the apple's of his cheeks are dusted in red. Lance has unfolded himself, opening to Keith and then, sitting up properly. Lance says, "I'll hold you to it, 'kay?" 

"Okay," he promises. 

Lance adjusts his pad slightly. "I like talking to you." 

"Me too." 

Then, "I'm going to ruin the mood, okay?" 

"Okay," says Keith again. "Okay." 

He watches as Lance rubs his eyes harshly with the heels of his palms. Keith suddenly feels like he's watching the unraveling of a very tired, and very small boy. Lance sighs and says, "Something is wrong with Shiro." 

"Lance-" 

" _No,_ " says Lance forcefully. "Keith please - don't. You need to believe me." 

Keith's eyes widen at the desperation in Lance's voice. "I do," he rushes out. "Lance, I do. I do." 

Lance blinks, and a beat of silence passes. Keith is struck, then, with the thought that this entire conversation has been leading to this moment - and that even after months of friendship Lance had expected to be rejected. 

"You do?" asks Lance quietly. "Really?" 

Keith smiles. He says, "I trust your judgement." 

"Okay," starts Lance. "What would you say if I asked you to come home." 

 _Yes,_ Keith thinks. He decided months ago, after a tense and tearful conversation with Lance in the hallway just outside the training room that if Lance called, he would run as fast as he could. As Lance was swallowed up into the darkness of the hallway, something very awful hung in the air between them - and it scared Keith bad enough that he was hesitant to leave. Keith had known something was wrong but he thinks, then, that Lance had already known exactly what was wrong. 

Lance waited until Keith was ready - until he found his mother, and his identity, and his culture. 

Keith didn't realize it, but he thinks that he might have been waiting for Lance to ask, to grant permission. 

Keith says, "I'd say yes." 

Metal screams and Lance's door is wrenched open, then. The door clatters as its tossed into the hallway. Keith feels his breath catch in his throat as Lance freezes, wide and blue eyes making eye contact with purple ones. Beyond Lance, Keith sees the faint outline of a purple hand. He watches as Lance's eyes follow Keith's own, locked to the screen, before Lance ducks as Shiro's hand swings just centimetres from the pad screen. 

Lance grapples for something on his bed, narrowly dodging Shiro's grip again. It's a desperate movement, and the dark of the room does nothing to aid Lance but also, it does nothing to aid Shiro either. Then, with a triumphant noise, he meets Shiro's hand with a broadsword - the red bayard. Keith stands up abruptly, grabbing for his knife and his shoes. He hears the red lion roar through Lance's pad, but feels the roar deep within his chest; feels the worry and protectiveness and Lance ducks again. He turns to the pad, then, with wide and desperate eyes. Lance says, "Knowledge or death, Keith." 

Keith blinks. The blue lion roars. He runs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys thank you so much for the positive reactions to the first chapter. i'm uhuhuh really bad at continuations to stories (especially because i originally intended to leave the work as is) and i also write at ONLY the most inconvenient times but i really do hope you enjoyed !! please comment to let me know what you think + if you liked it 
> 
> and of course, my tumblr is @gallaxygay where you can shoot me a message


	3. reminiscing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith runs through the blade headquarters

Some of Keith's clearest memories of earth are from the months immediately before the Kerberos mission. He and Shiro spent the summer being brothers and Keith thinks that he must have been depressed because he remembers the sunny days and warm nights more clearly than his last conversation with Kolivan, but most of those memories are tainted with melancholy and a painful, painful tension between wanting to be a brother for Shiro and wanting to wait out the summer in his bed - preparing for the day he'd have to let another person go. 

Keith remembers touring the Garrison campus with Shiro during their last week together. They went to see the ship that Shiro would spend the next few months on, conducting groundbreaking research. Keith wore his Garrison uniform, that day, neatly pressed for the first and last time that year. The weather was too hot and the collar was too tight, and he thinks Shiro understood because they left midday for lunch. It was a small burger place called "Randy's". 

He doesn't know if the day was really so bad (or if it was just his worries, eating away at the good side of things) but he remembers that he had chicken nuggets for lunch, and had accidentally dumped the entire sweet-and-sour sauce container on to his napkin. It had caused tears to well up in his eyes and Keith sighed, letting his head bang against the greasy fast-food restaurant table in defeat. 

Shiro laughed at Keith then. Keith can't remember what Shiro looks like without his scar but he remembers how Shiro had to squint at Keith, because the sun was just low enough that it shone into his eyes. Shiro asked mirthfully, "So we're in that kind of mood today?" 

Keith groaned. The table smelled like grease. "Yeah," he mumbled out. "This fucking sucks."

Shiro nodded thoughtfully at that, taking another bite of his hamburger. "Okay," he said after a while. "Have you had whiskey before?"

Keith hadn't - he didn't have the friends to drink with. He remembers the way his forehead broke out the week after that. He also remembers sitting on their roof later that night as the sunset began to finish and night crept upon the horizon. Shiro had grabbed a bottle of alcohol form underneath his bed, a conspiratorial wink sent in Keith's direction. ("Hey," whispered Shiro. "Don't tell mom and dad, okay?") The whiskey felt like fire down Keith's throat, but if Shiro was having it, he would too. 

(He drank coffee in the desert. Keith half thinks that he'll never feel that burning again - but he doesn't particularly mind leaving that vice on earth.) 

\--

Growing up with the Shiroganes was different than growing up in any of Keith's other homes. They were kind and the walls of their home were white and clean. 

Shiro was thirteen and Keith was seven when he first showed up on their doorstep with his garbage bag of belongings and his social worker. He met Keith on the porch with a bright smile and extended hand. He'd said, "I'm Takashi! Most people just call me Kashi, though. It's nice to meet you." 

Keith watched him a bit warily, but placed his hand in Shiro's nonetheless. 

It was good. 

\--

Keith has a photo of Shiro and himself from the summer after Shiro's first year at the Garrison. It's the end of June, and they're standing in front of the light red brick of the Shirogane household. They're standing side by side with Shiro's arm around his shoulder, a massive height difference between the two. He thinks that Shiro is seventeen in the photo, with shaggy hair and a somewhat goofy smile. Keith has his red, leather jacket on. 

He had the photo in his pocket when Lance rocketed the team away from the earth. 

\--

Keith thinks about Shiro as he races to the Blades hangars. He thinks about the way they play fought in the backyard during hot summer days, laughing themselves to stomach cramps. And he thinks of the way that Shiro sat on hour long video calls with Keith to help him with his homework during middle school, trying so hard to make middle school easier. He thinks of how Shiro used to mother Keith a bit, and the way that he still did even after a year of imprisonment in the gladiator arena. 

He thinks about the night when Shiro came crashing back down to earth. 

\--

_His footsteps thunder against the hallway floor._

\--

Keith loves Shiro. He's his brother and family member and longtime best friend. He never wanted to come back to the castle like this - never wanted Lance to be reduced to survival and  _never_ wanted to even think of the fact that he might really have to confront Shiro, one day. 

His heart pounds, and Keith can't help but to feel like he's on a clock - and completely running out of time. He  _knows_ that Lance is a good fighter, and that he's strong and fast and smart but Shiro spent a year fighting for his life daily. Lance is good but he's not infinite. 

Lance isn't infinite - and he doesn't have a weapon for an arm. 

\--

When the hangar door slides open. Keith is unprepared to see Blue.

It is the first time that night that he pauses. 

\--

_Keith remembers finding Shiro, for the second time._

_And how it was not quite the same._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ldafjlkjg hello all, i'm sorry if it feels like i'm dragging this out. in all honesty, i do not have ANY plot planned for this story because i am a piece of shit so every time i post a chapter i open up a new doc and just write whatever comes to me (then, usually post it w/o any editing because i am Bad !!!) 
> 
> anyway thank you soooo much for reading !! leave me a comment/kudo if ya liked (or if you want to see anything specific in the future) and as always, my tumblr is the same as my username @gallaxygay


	4. tumultuous at best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith and lance meet again in that dimly lit hallway

Panic thrums through Blue in ever increasing waves. Keith feels it, he sees the way the cabin lights ebb and flow with every new worry, and feels the way his own blood rushes with that same worry for Lance. It's visceral and tangible and the emotion is violent - violent in the same way that a cornered animal is violent, trapped with the knowledge that someone else holds all the power in their hands but fighting, still, despite all disadvantages. He's connected to Blue in that moment. Blue and Keith feel the same terror at the prospect of losing someone so,  _so_ , important - and it thrums through their veins. 

Blue speeds through space. 

It's not fast enough. 

Keith thinks about all the sleepless nights he spent on hour long video calls with Lance. He used to revel in the emotion and presence of Lance - even as his eyes would begin to slide shut of their own accord. Knowing that Lance was on the other side of the screen left something warm and happy in the crevices of Keith's chest. On some rare nights, usually after a particularly arduous battle, Lance would sign on to their calls with scratches on his cheeks and yawns in between every half word. On those nights Keith would watch Lance fall asleep as whispers and giggles turned into long breaths and fluttering eyelids - waiting until he too fell asleep with Lance right beside him. 

On those late night calls Keith learnt that Lance's hair is naturally curly, falling atop his head in wavy, brown ringlets. When Lance noticed staring, one night, he giggled and ran a hand through his hair. "I know," he said. "I'm not a big fan of the curls, so I usually brush them out."

It turned out that Lance wasn't a big fan of most of himself - not his curls, or his freckles that line the top of his cheekbones, or the scar on his back. But insecurity about insecurity was washed away in the dim lights of the night, each boy only lit by the flickering of their pads, and it never felt so bad to be so vulnerable. 

When Keith told Lance about the experience of finding his mother, he cried for the better part of an hour. Sobs tore through his being with the same weight that all Keith's other emotions carry, leaving him broken up and tired. It never felt wrong to cry in front of Lance, though, not when Lance was sitting with curly hair, a clean face, and the patience of someone who isn't... _Lance_. Because, when Lance wants to be patient he  _is_ and when Lance wants to be, he's open and earnest and that rarely happens but something about the late hours of the day brings it out of the boy. Sometimes, the honesty of Lance, a person who lives mostly on half-lies and glossovers, it hits Keith swinging - knocking the breath out of him every time. 

Keith jerks in the pilot's seat when Blue abruptly stops. His head collides with Blue's control panel and he shouts, "What the fuck Blue? Lance is-"

His anger comes too early and too fast, though, because his eyes widen as Blue opens up a wormhole. It's not the sort that Allura creates with the castle but instead, the energy flows like water, and the familiar blue crackle is closer to white. 

A soft gasp escapes Keith.  _This,_ he thinks,  _is how much Blue loves Lance_. 

-

Keith races through the dimly lit hallways with his knife in hand. He can feel his heart in his throat because - because Keith knows the way that fights work, knows how unevenly matched Shiro and Lance are, and he knows that Shiro only ever needs for Lance to mess up once. 

One mess up. The thought makes Keith feel sick. Lance gets one try, and then Keith is too late and Shiro wins everything. Nausea pulses at the bottom of his stomach. 

Lance is wearing his pajamas. 

Keith treasures Lance in the same way that he treasures breathing and he can't imagine those late night conversations coming to an abrupt and untimely ending. He can't imagine never teasing Lance about his curly hair again, or never hearing exuberant (and sometimes exaggerated)  of Lance's day, or never squirming under the feeling of being the target of Lance's smile, and not quite understanding the feelings that course through him. Losing Lance isn't something Keith is ready to deal with but - 

But he's not ready to lose Shiro either. 

He hears Lance before he sees him. Quietly, dangerously, Lance is saying, "You  _never_ understood what it means to be human. I know this isn't fucking Shiro, Haggar. Quit acting." 

Keith freezes. 

Lance continues, "They're all going to know. Keith is coming and he'll tell them." 

"Keith," drawls Shiro, "Is going to be too late." 

Keith peaks around the wall in time to see something akin to a snarl make its way on to Lance's features. It's angry and hurt and Lance is covered with his own blood but he's still breathing - and that has tears welling up in Keith's eyes. It's enough. It's bloody and painful but if Lance is alive it's all enough. Lance breathing and angry and scared is more than enough for things to be okay again. 

"No," snaps Lance, low and angry. "As long as he comes at all, it is never going to be too late." 

The thing laughs. Keith thinks he's going to throw up. Keith had conversations with Shiro and he cried in front of Shiro and when he was still dealing with the tumultuous feelings of creating an identity he was vulnerable in front of Shiro and he yelled about the Blade to Shiro and he talked about the Blade's  _plans_ with Shiro and - and - the thing that's covered in laughs blood throws its head back slightly and laughs like the dead. The laugh is hollow and long and too drawn out and Keith watches how Lance flinches at such a viscerally uncomfortable sound. 

When Shiro moves again, so does Lance. Keith's breath catches in his chest because Lance is moving just a step too slow. He's fatigued and hurt and it shows in the slow draws of his bayard. Keith can't move though. He's paralyzed with the same sort of fear he felt when he was young and desperate and angry and staring out at an open desert with his notebook and red jacket on his shoulder and the Garrison behind him. No home and no family. 

"They won't miss you," whispers the thing, almost too quietly to hear. "We'll be better off without you." 

When Keith was seventeen and angry he froze. His fear consumed him. 

" _I can deal with that."_

Anger, Keith thinks, is more constructive when it's for another person. When anger is desperate and hopeful and love. He sometimes has trouble telling the difference between the two, anger and love, especially when it comes to Lance but Keith moves with the speed and force of both - stepping out of the shadows and meeting the thing's gaze with fury.

The thing's snarl melts away when they make eye-contact. A wide (too wide), mirthful smirk pulls at the corner of its lips. It singsongs, "You'd kill your brother, Keith? Murder your brother? Stick him through with that Galra knife of yours?"

Lance collapses against the wall, bayard still in hand. 

"You'd do that Keith?" it taunts. "Kill half your family as soon as mommy comes back?"

Lance shifts his bayard to a rifle. 

"Yes," says Keith earnestly. "I would, a thousand times, for him." 

And that's enough for Lance. The thing falls dead on Keith's chest, the shot meeting the wall right behind Keith's head and singing his hair. In the moment he forgives Lance for all his bragging about being a good shot because this is the second fucking time. But wonder and awe and tears and relief doesn't make Keith feel better about having a bleeding body atop of his own which looks so, so much like Shiro. He has to heave to push the body away before rolling to his knees and vomiting. 

Keith hears a small sigh, and looks up in time to see Lance's eyes flutter shut. 

"Lance?" Keith asks. 

 

"Lance?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all soosoo much for sticking with this fic !! like not to toot my own horn but i'm really proud of myself for sticking with a multichapter fic and i hope that my writing has been improving along the way. there's probably gonna be one more chapter to round this bad boy out (aldkjfkaldj sorry for that) and then i'll probably move on !! 
> 
> thank you so much for the positive comments so far, let me know what u think in the comments or drop a kudos !! thanks a ton !!


	5. when will it ever be later?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this never should have been so difficult. keith has lance in his arms once again

Keith is crying. Lance won't open his eyes. 

-

_Lance laughed at Keith. Heartily, at that. And though that sort of hearty laughter wasn't entirely uncommon nor was it an entirely unprecedented outcome to any situation with Lance involved, Keith still half-expected to be annoyed,_

_He wasn't. Keith found himself strung along by the way that Lance giggled - crinkled eyes and a wide smile and god, Lance was so fucking lovely. Perhaps it was the ferocity with which Lance laughed, or the way that light from Lance's pad caught the blue of his eyes, or even the fact that he hadn't had anyone to laugh with in months. Keith suspected, though, that despite the fact that there were millions of logical reasons as to why Keith found himself so fucking enraptured with Lance, that much of it had to do with the fact that he had increasingly found himself thinking about what it might be like to be with Lance._

_Lance's laugh faded before Keith had a moment to be confused. Then, with a goofy smile still on his face, Lance said, "You know the movie called Aliens?"_

_Keith shook his head - and he still half expected for Lance to laugh at him, so it was a pleasant surprise when Lance just nodded resolutely in return. He said, "I'll tell you all about it later."_

_(Keith never found out what "later" meant to Lance, not when laughing so hard seemed to tire out Lance almost instantly. Keith hardly had time to wonder about the way that Lance's energy seemed manic and temporary, because just a few moments later Lance's attention is drawn away by knocking at the door._

_Lance shot an apologetic smile Keith's way. He was never able to see beyond the door frame. The hallway was dark, outside of Lance's room.)_

_-_

 

"Lance," he's saying. "Please, please, please please, please."

Eventually, he's crying too hard to speak. Hiccuping on words and pleas. 

-

_It wasn't long after that video chat that Lance and Keith were sitting on a video call when Keith found Lance shaking his head again, a fond smile playing at the corner's of his lips. Keith recognized the pattern that they sometimes fell into, with Keith speaking his mind, and Lance laughing (sometimes quietly, sometimes boisterously), before taking the time to explain everything._

_There was something incredibly comfortable to the pattern of laughter and explanations. And, if Lance was mocking Keith while laughing, he couldn't tell. Perhaps it was that Keith was blinded by want and need, or perhaps it was something else but it was enough for Keith to find something really good in Lance._

_He doesn't feel so alone while talking to Lance._

_Lance said, "Have you watched High School Musical?"_

_Keith snorted. "A musical?"_

_"Sure," said Lance easily, mischief glinting in his eyes. "It's art."_

_"I've never seen it."_

_"That's alright," said Lance just as easily as before. He glanced at his door then, another apologetic smile already twisting at his lips. "I'll tell you later, 'kay Keithy?"_

_"Okay," said Keith._

_-_

 

Footsteps pound against the ground. Keith can't breathe. 

-

_Lance was more tired. He watched Keith with terrible eyes, looking for all the world like he expected for Keith to get up and leave._

_Keith said, "I'm not angry."_

_Lance shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He was sitting in the kitchen, looking like he was desperately trying not to cry. Lance's bottom lip trembled. Keith wished he was there._

_Because - because Keith could never be sure if he could truly help Lance with any demons he had but he wished he could try._

_"Are you taking drugs?" asked Keith._

_That caused Lance to laugh, short and dry, suddenly pawing away at tears in his eyes. He said, "My favourite movie is Star Wars, ever. It's why I went to the Garrison, and all."_

_Keith shook his head, then. He said, "I've never watched it."_

_"I know," said Lance gently. "We'll watch it together later."_

_-_

Allura is there. Hunk is there. 

Someone is screaming. 

-

_"So," said Lance. "There's Ghostbusters - a classic. Uh, the Hunger Games which - Okay, Keith, I see you and no I don't deserve that look. The Hunger Games definitely counts as a G."_

_Keith was laughing to hard to respond. And, Lance looked tired and his right eye was swollen shut but he was trying his damnedest to entertain Keith._

_Through giggles Keith said, "Another one, Lance."_

_"And," continued Lance. "While I'm on a roll, G-Force was a real movie. You're gonna fucking flip when you see it, Keith, I swear to god. Um, Guardians of the Galaxy was good in retrospect, no too sure how I feel about it that we are Guardians of the Galaxy, but you feel me?"_

_Keith nodded, a silly smile plastered on his face._

_Then, Lance jumped up in his seat. "Oh. My. God." he said. "I forgot Jumanji - it's such an adventure movie oh my god-"_

_"I've seen that one," interrupted Keith, still laughing. "And it starts with a J, Lance."_

_Lance groaned._

_-_

Lance blinks. Keith can feel his blood trickling out, into his hands. 

He's surrounded by a sea of Lance. 

-

_Lanced watched Keith warily through the pad. He said, "You've watched Titanic, right?"_

_Keith nodded. Said, "Sure, you know that, it's one of the few movies I've watched."_

_Lance nodded, too._

_A beat passed. He said, "I think I might be Jack."_

_"And what does that mean?"_

_"I'm not sure," Lance shrugged._

_-_

Lance blinks owlishly at Keith. He says, "I think you think I'm dying." 

And, Lance isn't wrong but Keith is seconds away from crying again, so instead of using words he just clutches Lance to his chest. He takes to memory the way that Lance smells (iron and coconut) and how warm his body is against Keith's Blade of Mamora suit, and the way that his fingers are curled around Keith's curls. Vaguely, Keith feels like he should be apologizing, but the lump in his throat is too much to move past. 

"I'm sorry," says Lance, with light disbelief colouring his words. "I might be, Keith." 

There's a beat of silence. Looking into Lance's eyes, Keith forgets to breathe. Lance can't die. Keith can't have that - he just can't. 

Lance doesn't look scared. He looks tired and worn down, and like he's in a fair amount of pain - but he doesn't look scared. And though Keith has spent months running from Lance, and longer months running from the team, the time away did nothing to quell his fears for Lance - to quell the amount Keith feels for Lance.

And - and Keith's having a hard time reconciling the fact that he has  _Lance_ in his hands and in his hair and that he's soaked to the bone with Lance's life. It makes his stomach roll, mind furiously trying to keep up with what any of this means. 

Lance's head falls back, a tiny whine escaping his lips. He says, "You have to let Hunk take me to the med-bay." 

"I-" 

"I won't die here." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ughHHHHH this took me forever !!!! the very last chapter is a prologue which i'm gonna post like 5 minutes after this baby. 
> 
> i died writing this so let me know what you think. and if you're still here after what ? 2 months ??? then thanks a TON because i've had literally the worst time trying to come up with an end to this story


	6. the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's quiet
> 
> things aren't so dark, anymore

Lance and Keith are sitting in front of one of the observatory windows. The sun of the nearby planet casts warm orange light over the two boys. It’s light, finally. Things are far from pleasant but a contented silence rests between them. Though Keith is still nursing bruises and shallow cuts, too minor for the pods to heal, he feels alright.

Lance is resting his head on his knees, blinking slowly. He looks golden in the sun, as though he hadn't just spent an entire month in the healing pods. Lance looks alright, too. 

Quietly, Lance says, “I don't want to die up here.”

Keith doesn’t respond. His face burns with the heat of the sun.

Lance touches a hand to Keith’s knee. He continues, laughter bubbling up through his words, “I just want to go home.”

Keith nods. But he doesn’t want - can’t look at Lance for the fear that his face holds something that Keith has never encountered before. Something not even an angry, violent space-war could prepare him for. He thinks about the lightheartedness of some of their video calls, and wonders how lighthearted it was for Lance. Whether or not movies and pop culture mean "home" for Lance, and whether or not Keith fits into that picture of home and movies and niceties. 

So Lance says, “I’ll do it with you. I never mind so much when it's with you.”

“You will?”

“Yeah,” mumbles out Lance, words still slurred by his unwillingness to move his face from in between his knees. “Yeah, probably.”

“Okay,” says Keith. His eyes water from the heat of the sun, maybe.

“‘Kay,” says Lance, with all the surety in the world. “Okay, Keith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this in april, actually. 
> 
> please validate me lmao i worked really fucking hard on this. 
> 
> and if you have any fic ideas drop em in the comments or come visit me @lancelovely on tumblr !!!
> 
> thanks for sticking around

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys ! thank you so much for reading !! comments and kudos mean the world, yo. hope you liked the story !


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